To Die, To End
by HeartElyse
Summary: "And before he had the opportunity to turn, a hooked blade exploded out through his abdomen, hacking his insides completely in two." A simple order, a simple obligation, and everything falls apart... A story in which a dark star plummets from the sky and our dear Earl is left behind to face the carnage. Character death. Three-shot. NOT YAOI. COVER IMAGE NOT MINE.
1. Part 1

**Hey guys!**

 **It's been a while. I've just had a massive break from writing, so to ease back into it, I decided to write this piece! I can confirm that it will be a three-shot, so stay tuned for more.**

 **Oh, and to anyone who read 'His Butler, A Father's Touch' and is still wait for that supposedly 'controversial' story I was talking about, I've been working as hard as I can on it. It is quite a large story, and is very taxing on my writing ability, but I'm hoping to have it published at some point!**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy this story!**

 **HeartElyse**

 **XXX**

 _ **To Die, To End**_

"Sebastian, this is an order! _Kill the Undertaker!_ "

The demon's amiable lips twisted into the most wicked of smirks, his snake-like irises smouldering a garish rouge against the London night. He flashed his ravenous gaze upon the boy standing only metres behind. The Earl's stance was heavily rooted as though he himself was about to partake in a battle to the death, his only uncovered eye glaring upon the silver-haired Grim Reaper with such acidic intent that had the boy been anything else but human, than they surely would have caused damage upon the manic God before them. _How delicious_ , the demon internally acknowledged.

"Are you certain, my Lord?" Sebastian questioned, merely for his own amusement. "There will be no turning back."

"Yes," cackled the Undertaker from where he was situated within the depths of the alleyway, his mangled top-hat discarded upon the cobblestone ground, his deceitful eyes beaming fluorescent green from beneath his lustrous curtain of locks. "I won't get any good laughs if ya kill me, hehe. Well, if ya can, that is!"

Releasing yet another insufferable giggle, the Grim Reaper raised a clawed hand and from nothingness materialised his death scythe, a metallic instrument that embodied the shape of a human skeleton, but protruding from the skull that served to cap the lethal weapon was a hooked blade that held both the strength of an axe and the accuracy of a dagger in its vocabulary, and could cleave bone to pieces in one foul swoop.

This display of finery did not faze the demon's master in the least however, but served to only agitate the child further, much to butler's unholy delight.

Turning his livid face upon Sebastian, the child promptly roared, "Are you going to make me repeat my order, Sebastian?! I _told_ you to kill him!"

Smoothing his immaculately-white gloved hand over the breast pocket of his trench coat - already anticipating the blood that would ruin it shortly - Sebastian dipped his head low in obligation.

"As you wish, my Lord."

In an instant, the illusion of human restraint was unshed and tossed away as Sebastian invited his animalistic impulses to take complete and utter control of his entire system. With ivory fangs gleaming within the moonlight, Sebastian propelled himself high from the earth, and drifting beyond the realms of gravity, he lunged forward with arms outstretched like a sleek black feline soaring towards its prey, Undertaker consuming his sights, his figure moving at such a pace that it would be impossible for the human eye to fathom…

And yet, when he was certain that he was very much upon the mouse that he had been given the responsibility - and the pleasure - to hunt, his eager fingers had grasped nothing more but weightless air. Confusion plagued him for but a moment, for he did not need to wait a moment more to hear a trill of laughter by his left side, and flicking his eyes in that direction, he found his mouse not even a step away, its leering face serving to only tease him.

With a growl of frustration catching within the demon's throat, Sebastian once again launched himself forward, this time angling his body towards the left. And yet, as his fist made to exhibit the first blow, it once again landed upon nothing. An unexpected slice upon his right flank caused the demon to flinch, aware that his first wound was the consequence of his inability to remain in toe with the God, but as a new peal of laughter greeted him upon his right, Sebastian could not stifle a grin, rather humoured by the new game he was playing with the Reaper.

Like a dance, the two unearthly beings stepped around each other within their ballroom of motionless air, with Sebastian performing an advanced array of acrobatics to and fro, and in every possible direction imaginable. But alas, he was only rewarded with far greater wounds in turn. He was not at all surprised. The Grim Reaper was a seasoned player after all, and in essence, a stronger being in many bounds.

He did not intend to lose however. His master had ordered it after all.

For what seemed like the infinite time, Sebastian's hands had closed on nothing and for several seconds, he remained poised, listening with earnest, but hearing zilch for his efforts. He sniffed the air for the God's deathly scent, but any trace of it had been completely vanquished from the scene, which the demon found incredibly odd. Still, as minutes raced by, Sebastian had almost convinced himself that the Undertaker had fled from the scene entirely.

Yet, as a grating tone slithered into his ears from behind, he knew he had been most damnably fooled.

"Behind you, butler!"

And before he had the opportunity to turn, a hooked blade exploded out through his abdomen, hacking his insides completely in two. And just like that, all the souls that had generated the force of his immortality spilled out from him, free from the hell that he had condemned them to, and with a scream that could shatter glass, gravity unleashed itself upon his suddenly burdensome vessel, and like a bird that's wings had abruptly been ripped off, the demon tumbled out of the sky.

Greeting the cobblestone path with the most dreadful of cracks, Sebastian hardly considered the alarmed cry of his master, but instead analysed the pain he was feeling, most intrigued by how painful it all truly was. It was an agony that must surely only come with death; the immense, hollow ache of being truly empty. This was a devil's death, so legend says. How curious indeed.

Sebastian infatuated his eyes with what was going to be his own prey, the mere child kneeling at the demon's side, his mask of composure broken by naked panic. The demon was full-heartedly disappointed that he would never get to try even a morsel of the boy's soul, but he was relieved that it so happened to be the last soul he ever served.

And as the world began to lose its meaning, the demon internally chuckled.

He'd been beaten by the life of a mere soul…


	2. Part 2

_**To Die, To End**_

The silence was deafening. It rang out like an unnerving howl along the roughened stones of the gloomy alleyway. It clung to Ciel like a dampened rag to his skin and he shivered, goosebumps splaying across his arms in waves. His heart pawed against his ribcage, its fretful thumping only adding to the din that strangled him. He felt anxiety clench harder and harder the longer the seconds ticked by. His knees had begun to smart against the jarring surface of the pathway as he sat hovering over the body, a body that had remained irksomely still since the moment it had fallen.

"S-Sebastian?…"

 _Breathing…_ Ciel should of heard it. The inhales. The exhales. Singing out into the bewitching darkness like a delicate, entrancing lullaby. Of course, the body had no pressing need to breathe, for the demon did not require oxygen to thrive within its immortal life. But as an assurance, and as a way to wear his mask with the utmost perfection, the demon had always made sure to breathe.

And yet now, he certainly did not. The demon lay as immovable as a stone and equally as cold, his chest frozen, his limbs still, his eyes staring. Not shuddering. Not even making a single sound.

"…S-Seba…stian?…"

Rain erupted from the ominous sky without a whisper of warning, sending a cascade of diamonds jittering down upon the earth below. And as though the rain could speak words of reason, Ciel cast his quivering gaze downwards to his equally quivering hands, and with a cold flush of maddening horror, he finally took note of the oozing crimson that coated them. Yet as his eye observed further, his horror was accelerated by a dense pool of blood that clotted his vision, standing stark against the ocean of unceasing grey, droplets of unmarred water coming to mingle within it.

 _So much blood… Too much blood… Spewing out across the pavers… Dribbling over the alter…_

All sense fled from Ciel like a fleeting breeze that could not dwindle any longer. Reaching downwards with red, shaking fingers, Ciel swooped his palms over the demon's slender shoulders, disregarding the mock sinew beneath as he jolted them with such frantic energy that he swore he could feel them groan.

"Sebastian!" he yowled, his features contorted in the same fashion as a man who was teetering on the brink of insanity. "Sebastian! SEBASTIAN! Don't you hear me? How dare you ignore your master! Stop this nonsense immediately and get up! THAT'S AN _ORDER_!"

When the bloodied heap upon the ground did not even attempt to flinch, a seething snarl bubbled out from Ciel's tightened throat and with an explosion of movement, Ciel struck the demon with a full fist upon his gaunt cheek. The skull merely lolled to the side in result of the impact, as unaffected as a plush toy that had been thrown in a fit of rage. Those russet eyes should have turned and slitted upon him in pure discontentment for the rather unnecessary violence, as though disappointed in his pettiness. And yet they remained locked forever upwards into the vast maw of the ashen heavens, the white gloss of the sockets all that was left to be seen.

Ciel wavered, his fist still hovering where the punch had come to end, his single sapphire eye lost in the deathly complexion of Sebastian's features.

 _That waxy body shimmering like porcelain amidst the candlelight… Glazed eyes screaming with its demise… Blood dribbling over the alter…_

A diluted world swallowed Ciel's sight whole, and before he could even get a grip on himself, his fists were plunging down in a fervent rhythm upon the demon's face, his blows clumsy and tactless, yet so taxing that the tender flesh capped over his knuckles began to shred.

Huffing with ferocity, Ciel released a scathing cry. "YOU CAN'T DIE! I WON'T ACCEPT!… I WON'T ALLOW IT!… MOVE! DO SOMETHING! I DON'T CARE! JUST GET UP!"

When this stirred nothing from the withered being on the ground, Ciel's frustration heightened to the point in which tears frothed up within his blazing eyes. With yet another roar, Ciel unsheathed his revolver from the waistband of his trousers, cocked the barrel to his right temple and curled his finger around the trigger.

Thin lips trembling, Ciel stooped forward so that his modest nose brushed upon the ebony strands of his servant's hair and, with his mouth hardly an inch from the demon's ear, he hissed haggardly, "If you don't get up this instant, Sebastian, then I'll end it all, and you can watch as my precious soul slips from my body, never to be yours again."

Ciel waited, allowed those cutting words to settle and then drift into the sheets of rain that melted around him, yet still nothing. Not even a single flutter of an eyelid greeted those words. He was speaking to nothing more but a hollow body, a shallow vessel that had already been rather shallow before, but was now so empty that nothing could ever hope to fill it again.

 _That waxy body shimmering like porcelain amidst the candlelight… Limbs boneless… Its spirit long since abandoned… Glazed eyes screaming with its demise… Blood dribbling over the alter…_

The gun rattled in his grasp, and then fell away with a harsh clang upon the stones below. His stomach rose, and then ejected from his mouth, introducing itself to the ground with a ghastly splash. And amidst the turbulence of his internal upheaval, the eyepatch concealing his right eye loosened and slid free, flapping to the earth like a sodden feather caught within a monstrous storm. And as his gaze fixed upon a sloshing puddle trapped within a small depression in the road, reflected back at him were two identically blue eyes, untarnished, undefiled, as innocent and as pure as the eyes that had stared into the flames on the day in which he lost it all. And at the sight, a thunder of blood shrieked through his ears.

Ciel felt all strength leave him as he collapsed upon Sebastian's broad, unmoving chest and buried his frozen, water-slicked face into the butler's trench coat, grappling fistfuls of the blood-drenched fabric in his quavering hands. The profound stench of frankincense and iron curdled within Ciel's nostrils and something akin to a sob clawed at his throat, desperate to be rid of him, and yet he held it close, refusing to let such an unforgivable sound escape him.

Tears, unwanted and yet irrepressible, pressed against the thin barriers of his eyelids, determined to flee and Ciel squeezed his eyes shut, willing them not to leak free. They were not tears of love, nor tears of compassion, nor tears of even guilt, but tears of utter disbelief and utter hopelessness. He was all alone once again. He was the poor ten-year-old boy with the dazzling sapphire eyes, reaching through the bars of his cage, earnestly pleading for a savour, but this time knowing far too well that there would be none.

A pathetic little boy, with no real power, with absolutely nothing at all…

He'd reached the point of hysterical, hysterical to the point in which he could not even fathom himself anymore, let alone whatever else extended beyond himself. It wasn't until hands - hands that had been intended to be gentle, but had been received as the total opposite - furled their way around his torso and yanked him free from Sebastian's frigid being. And with that mere motion, Ciel's mind completely unhinged.

He was vulnerable, and very much in danger, and had no one left to save him.

A sound merging a growl and a scream into one burst from Ciel, and with it ricocheting against the walls of the alley, Ciel writhed within the grasp, kicking his legs and throwing himself about in such a frenzy the he was vaguely aware that he was making it very much impossible for the person trying to keep him bound. A benevolent tone attempted to shush him with soothing words and pacifying phrases, and yet he could not understand it, nor did he trust it. With Sebastian dead, he could not trust anything anymore.

However, just as he'd almost wrestled himself free, a sharp, rippling pain acquainted itself with his skull, and at least for a while, Ciel knew nothing at all.

XXX

Fred Abberline was greatly astonished by the sudden weight that sagged within his arms, and had he not recovered at such a remarkable speed, then it would've been safe to say that the young boy would have surely been sprawled on the cobblestone tiles below. Heaving in a disgruntled gasp, Abberline tossed his head to the side and glued a startled gaze upon his Officer-in-Charge, Sir Arthur Randall, who was situated not even a metre away, the butt of his pistol still raised from where he'd struck the distraught Earl over the head.

"Sir!" Fred snapped, an acute pitch to his usually euphonious tone. "Surely that wasn't necessary?!"

Randall didn't bother with anything else but a shrug. " The brat was being troublesome. I merely put him in his place."

Fred choked, unable to believe the Lord's actions, but despite his internal aggravation, he did not speak it aloud. He simply watched as Randall tucked his pistol back into his overcoat and strode towards the grisly scene, his frowning features forever creased by brutality. Now with full view of the body, Fred witnessed it from his vantage above, and subsequently grimaced. The body and what surrounded it was completely ruptured by blood, blood that only grew thicker the more time passed. And although Fred had seen an assortment of things within his rather short life, at the sight, he could not prevent himself from gagging just a little.

Focusing his eyes back upon Randall, he observed as the Lord plucked a second revolver from the blood-cloyed ground and raised it high for a clearer view.

"Arrest him, Abberline."

A shockwave fizzled down Fred's spine. "What?! But Sir, you can't expect a child to kill somebody, let alone his own butler!"

"A child, don't make me laugh," Randall remarked without a single ounce of humour. "This isn't a child you're dealing with. This is just a brat. The Queen's villainous Guard Dog. I wouldn't put anything past him, and until he is able to speak for himself, he is the Prime Suspect in this case. Now take him way!"

Fred opened his mouth to argue further, but with a piercing glare from his Officer-in-Charge, he drew it shut almost immediately.

With a weary sigh, Fred relieved himself from where he had been kneeling, and with the petite Earl still very much unconscious within his arms, he stiffly turned upon his heels and began to tread mournfully towards the carriage both awaiting himself and Randall. However, in spite of his attempts, Fred could not quell the slight balloon of dread that was gradually filling the cavity of his stomach.

Fred had always been rather mystified by Ciel Phantomhive. How easily the boy could switch masks had always captivated him. One moment, the passionate charm of the boy would be alluring to anyone who was ever privileged enough to be graced with its mesmerising aura. But in the next second, all would shift and the boy's demeanour would turn sour, to the point in which it could even frighten grown men. It was brilliant, and yet just as equally destructive upon the one who constantly exploited it.

Fred had made the effort to research the boy, to study him, and observe those who surrounded him, most specifically his butler, whose true nature had been recognised by Fred after what felt like an eternity of disorientation, much to the detective's equal mortification.

Yet even so, the inkling that a child still resided beneath those dignified, infernal folds of his had never failed to leave Fred's conscience. And as Fred looked through the streaks of lurid gore and into the youthful face beneath, his conscience was only sealed…


	3. Part 3

_**To Die, To End**_

When Ciel awoke, he was perturbed to find himself furled upon a rather inconsistent mattress, damp to the bone and blanketed in the darkness of midnight, his skull wracking so enthusiastically that the urge to vomit was almost irresistible.

For several racing heartbeats, he did not dare to move an inch, more to calm the storm raging within his temples than anything else. However, as a meek sneeze managed to weasel its way out of him, Ciel was so overtaken by shivers of cold that he could not stand to remain immobile for a moment longer. Pressing quivering palms into icy sheets, Ciel reared himself up from the bed, and with aching eyes peering into the fog of blackness that engulfed him, Ciel began to clarify his surroundings.

The stuffy, quadratic chamber was mostly sparse, with the stated bed he sat upon squashed into the far right corner of the room, a rickety mahogany desk consuming the left quadrant of the room, and two doors, one that hung wide and what Ciel assumed lead to a private bathroom of sorts, and the other closed and heavily bolted, clearly locked and the only way to his freedom. The walls and floors were identical in manner, both of which shaped from bland stone and equally showed signs of weathering. The offensive aroma of bleach and opium lavished the chamber, causing the sickly pulsing within Ciel's head to only worsen. The only object that could be identified as some form of accessory in the room was a metallic candlestick holder, standing aloof upon the edge of the desk with one wizened white candle glued to its centre.

There was no further need for exploration. This room was a Noble's Cell, and that Ciel was assured of.

The revelation only served to bewilder Ciel even more so, because he could not remember being in any kind of predicament that would have possibly insinuated his confinement here. Reminded of his chill by yet another tremor, Ciel peeled himself from the bed, and with a slight teeter on his reeling heels, Ciel began to wander aimlessly about the room in a jittery dance of circles as he hugged himself incredibly tight, so tight in fact that beneath the pressure of his trembling fingertips, he could feel his shoulders bruising. Sifting through the many cobwebs of his mind, he tried to recollect the events that had occurred that evening.

The imprints of hands abruptly grasping around his waist still lingered, and with the sensation, he could not suppress the shudder that wriggled free. The iron of blood still saturated his senses, and as he noted his rather unseemly appearance, he found that the same blood was congealed all over him from head-to-toe, concealing his pure white skin behind a layer of violating red. He could recall the rain, crying from the heavens in waves, and drenching the damnable earth below. How it had turned the rivers of gloopy crimson to a pool of translucent magenta upon the cobblestone path beneath…

Ciel halted in his tread, his lungs collapsing upon themselves, his eyes stretching within their sockets.

 _Did…did someone…die?_

And just like how ocean water plunged over the shore, memory came rushing back in, washing away his blissful ignorance, washing away the kind confusion that had once overwhelmed him.

Quakes gripped his legs, gripped them so severely that with no time at all, he was falling and his knees crashed into the stone floor with a dull thud. And yet he felt nothing at all, not even a twitch of anguish, for his mind was elsewhere, slowly drowning, slowly suffocating within the memories.

The body sprawled across the cobble street. As black as a phantom, and yet as white as porcelain. Smothered by red. With a wound so vast inside its abdomen that Ciel's arm could've fit straight through.

 _Sebastian… Sebastian… Sebastian!_

"SEBASTIAN!" A sudden rage set Ciel's blood ablaze, and with reborn energy surging through his limbs, he arose to his feet, and with trembling fists clenched at his sides, he tipped his head upwards and yowled with venomous intent into the sky beyond the brittle ceiling. "Sebastian! How dare you make a fool out of me! How dare you! I swear; _you will pay for this!_ YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS, YOU BLASTED, WRETCHED FIEND!"

When only silence answered his shouting, a haze of scarlet melded over his sight, and with great enthusiasm, he stubbed the toe of his boot into the wall, a guttural cry fleeing from his lips in turn. "ARE YOU TRYING TO BREAK THE CONTRACT?! IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?!"

Again, not even a whisper of a breeze replied. Panting to the point in which his lungs began to itch, Ciel - suddenly overcome by a bout of cold and wariness - eased himself against the wall he had just quite thoroughly abused, clinging onto it for dear life, as though fearing that if he dared let go he would surely lose himself forever.

Inside his conscience, maddening thoughts were wiring.

 _He's not dead. He's not dead. He can't die. He isn't_ allowed _to die. It simply isn't possible…_

Groaning as though ill, Ciel sunk once again to his knees, but did not, at least for the moment, resurface back to his feet. He knotted his hands over his chest, and bending forward, he rested his thundering temple upon the icy wall, shakes of cold flittering over his shoulder blades and descending down his spine. He tried to persuade himself that his butler was merely poking fun, and would return when the show was no longer satisfactory. And yet as time slinked by, Ciel was finding that harder and harder to accept.

The jangle of a key slipping into a metal lock roused Ciel from his feverish pondering. Fixing his eyes over his shoulder, he observed as the iron door unhinged and from behind it, a wraithlike silhouette gradually appeared, with chestnut locks blanched in the darkness, and placid eyes riveting with anxiety as they trailed down the length of Ciel's unwholesome appearance.

Ciel could not conjure any other reaction but to croak out as monotonously as possible, "Abberline, what a pleasant surprise."

Fred invited himself into the room with no comment, and with his gaze wandering, he took into his sights the gloomy image of the boy hunched over himself upon the floor, looking as frail as a beautiful rose wilting in the cold. It was truly appalling to see.

"Are you alright, Ciel? I heard shouting."

Ciel curled his lip bitterly, his vibrant eyes narrowing. "That is none of your concern."

A waver of silence wriggled between the two, and it was in this silence that Ciel's body took the liberty of shivering rather obviously. The stickiness of Ciel's dripping coat against his skin was becoming almost impossible to bear.

Fred noticed this shiver, and taking pity on the boy, he toed forward with the caution of a sensitive child approaching a tiny, feeble bird, and removing his coat, he stooped down to the boy's height and extended the said coat out to him, and spoke in a tone that was benevolent enough to melt the silence away.

"Here, allowing me to help you, Ciel. Take off your coat and put this one on instead."

Instead of reacting like that feeble bird with its fractured wings and its pathetic chirping, Ciel lashed out like a prideful lion that had been grandly offended. "I don't need your help!" he seethed as he tossed the extended coat away with a blunt swat of his palm, his eyes bursting into flames of indignation. "Just leave me be!"

Slightly affronted, Fred stood paused for a moment, the rejected coat hovering idly by his chest, as though the tender skin of his fingers that in which had been brandishing out the coat had been sizzled alive. However, Fred could not remain affronted for long, for he knew that beneath all the feigned rage and pride was just a lonely child who was trying desperately to protect himself from all the fraud and distrust that could so easily infect him. And with this in mind, Fred revived with miraculous speed and once again offered his coat to the boy as though it had never been refused in the first place.

"Lord Phantomhive," Abberline addressed again, the fine edge to his tone the only indication that he might've been mildly vexed. "I must insist. You'll get pneumonia, and having pneumonia in these conditions is certainly not ideal."

"What does it matter?" Ciel spat, his tongue preparing to fly with scathing words. "I'll simply get Sebastian to -"

And with just a single name, with just a single thought, Ciel's tongue twisted itself back into his throat and whatever words were about to gush out were snuffed out like a candle that had been suddenly blown away, never to be uttered, never to be spoken.

A boneless sensation consumed him for several moments. Ciel was battling against the urge to faint…

 _That waxy body shimmering like porcelain amidst the candlelight…_ A body sprawled across the cobble street… _Limbs boneless…_ As black as a phantom, and yet as white as porcelain… _Its spirit long since abandoned…_ Smothered in red… _Glazed eyes screaming with its demise…_ With a wound so vast inside its abdomen that Ciel's arm could've fit straight through… _Blood dribbling over the alter…_

Something inside Ciel combusted. Tears - egged on by nothing short of fevered rage - flooded his eyes. His two _identical_ eyes, eyes in which no longer belonged to him, eyes in which were too innocent to be his anymore. Squeezing them shut in shame more than anything else, Ciel arose with new found strength to his feet, and with his entire frame swallowed by tremors and his head bowed, he released the questions that he could no longer keep contained.

"Where is he? Where is Sebastian?! Is he here also? What have you done with him?!"

For what felt like the hundredth time that evening, only the callous air answered, and as Ciel dared to open his eyes and peer upwards into Abberline's forlorn features, he found nothing but resignation smeared across them. This caused Ciel's last grappling on control to splinter into a thousand smithereens within his fingers, and with a snarl, Ciel rushed forward, and jerking his hand backwards, he flicked it forward with all the force that he could muster within his spindly arm and allowed his palm to connect with Abberline's resigned face.

"W-why won't you answer me?! Just answer me, damn it! JUST TELL ME!"

Fred stumbled back on his heels, the power behind the boy's strike taking him completely off guard. Raising his fingers to the harsh sting branded upon his cheek, he set his enlarged eyes upon the child's own and saw immediately what the boy was clearly trying to hide; the pools of crazed terror gradually spilling through the seams of his unquenchable fury. And with an epiphany sinking its knowing talons into Fred's mind, Fred caught Ciel's fist just as it peaked on connecting once again and whispered with such resonance into the night that he could've easily yelled.

"You already know where Sebastian is, Ciel."

Ciel's bones turned to ice and for a moment, his voice vanished. Those words hacked him entirely in half, and just as he'd been together, he'd just as easily fallen apart. Oh yes, he did already know where Sebastian was…but he could not accept it…he would not allow himself to accept it…for if he did…everything…all that he had been striving for since that day…would mean absolutely nothing…and in turn…he would mean absolutely nothing as well…

And yet…he could already feel himself disappearing…all the meaning…all the value…all the purpose gradually fading away… All along, he'd been nothing but a demon's toy…a demon's game…a demon's entertainment… And now that the demon was gone…even when the demon was the one who was dead…he'd gotten the last laugh… Sebastian had always gotten the last laugh…

For the first time in three years, the tears spilled…

 **XXX**

 **Hey guys!**

 **That was the final part of 'To Die, To End'! I hope you guys enjoyed it just as much as I loved writing it!**

 **In this story, I really wanted to bring Abberline into the spotlight, because I feel like there is just not enough Black Butler fanfiction with him in it, which is depressing, because in the anime, he was such a sweet character and I always get a little teary when I think about him.**

 **Oh, I probably should have mentioned this before, but even though the Abberline I am portraying in this story is from the Anime, this is still based on the Mangaverse.**

 **Anyway, thank you so much for reading! Please make sure you check out my other Black Butler pieces!**

 **HeartElyse**


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